Sugarcane

Another picture.\n\n[img[http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c7/jerikor/870517d2-0390-4eeb-9937-09ed8b5eec75.jpg]]\n\nOk, so. \n\nThis was a little odd.\n\nYou forward the picture to Ben, still trying to figure out where it came from. Why you're getting it. Why your skin feels like goosebumps suddenly, ([[you fucking hate goosebumps]]) and you rub your arms to try and get rid of them.\n\n//Nice big footprints//, Ben texts back.\n\n//They're not mine, someone sent them to me.//\n\n//Is this like that Jesus-walked-beside-me-thing?//\n\n//NO!// you text back, and rub your arms harder, moving your fingers to actually call him when your phone chirps that you have [[yet another text.]]\n\n<html>\n \n \n \n \n \n</html>\n

//no third head, but definitely goosebumps marbling your skin, weird and ugly, little insects trying to crawl out and consume you.//

His screams seem like they go on forever.\n\n[[His screams sound like they're going to shatter the world.]]

You fumble with the screen, your fingers slick with sweat to open another picture.\n\n[img[http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c7/jerikor/d2be029c-2a7f-4ee2-9d50-0fb14e17bb32.jpg]]\n\nThe black and white is stark. Some type of filter has been applied. It's looks unearthly and odd and you feel a shiver run up your spine.\n\nYou call Ben.\n\n//Hey!// he says, sounding happy. //What's up Jordan?//\n\n//I need you to come over,// you burst out, heart starting to speed up.\n\n//Is this about the Jesus walking beside you thing?//\n\n//NO,// you shout. //[[Can you please just come over?]]//

[[BANG.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/PzVxgvy.png]]\n\n[[You freeze.]]

[[You feel cold.]]

[[Your phone rings.]]

The wreckage is everywhere once you finally reach the living room.\n\n//Ben?// you call out, loudly, shining the light in the direction of the couch. //Ben!//\n\nThe room is a mess and the couch is flipped over, the coffee table too. A leg is splintered from one fo the chairs.\n\n[[But there is no Ben.]]

//you don't like cheesepuffs. the cheese gets all over your mouth and the puff sticks in your teeth. you and martha are doomed before you even start.//

It's the next day. \n\nGloriously bright ([[too fucking bright for being fucking Washington]]).\n\nBen texts you that he has a hangover. \n\n//Brunch??// he texts enthusiastically.\n\nYou immediately think bagels, mimosas, pastries. Bread. Just all types of bread. Bread is good.\n\nYou grab your phone, text back //yes//, and then remember the last thing you saw before you fell asleep.\n\nYou re-read the conversation, wondering why you had been scared, and then your phone [[buzzes with a text message.]]\n\n

[img[http://i.imgur.com/7DrO4pg.png]]\n\nYou clutch your sweater more tightly around you, even though the heater is on. You feel slightly reassured that Ben is with you, then you remember he's passed out drunk and feel even more uneasy.\n\n//Told me what?// you think as you click back to the profile page of this Anissa person, looking at your conversations.\n\n//Neither will you,// Anissa had written. //Sleep. She said I won't sleep.//\n\nThe thing that creeps you out the most is that the update was mere minutes ago. Your eyes race around the room, lingering on your [[oversized stuffed dog and potted cactus.]] Hidden cameras? A joke? Surely not.\n\nYou take a deep breath and [[start typing a response back.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/u8q6lr8.png]]\n\nThe world is spinning and you feel increasingly delirious. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline, and your leg starts to [[twitch, twitch, twitch.]] More sweat beads on your lip.\n\n//Calm down,// you say to yourself. //Stop typing. Call the police.//\n\n//Yea right,// you think the next second. //They'd do nothing. This is stupid. This is a stupid internet thing. Why am I even talking to this guy?//\n\n//[[Why do I do this to myself?]]// you think as you carefully respond.

[[You try to sleep.]]

A World Falling

[img[http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c7/jerikor/f1ba98f8-89bb-499a-b382-762e462d3acd.jpg]]\n\nA ... drainage pipe?\n\n[[Why...]]

You feel cold.\n\n[[You feel the blood running from your feet.]]

Your feet slap against the pavement.\n\nYou clutch the phone in your hand.\n\nSweat pours down your body.\n\n[[You haul yourself down the street.]]

//you remember that it was by the ocean. you liked the ocean. it was cold and smelled nice. you came because Ben went, and Martha went because of Ben too. it was nice. Martha was lukewarm about the water - it wasn't cold enough. you had seen her toenail polish - bright, blood red. red was not your favorite color. there was no future for you two at all.//

//you don't know why, you know it was a kids' series and you read them and honestly you thought that they were a little badly written, even for a kids' series - no disrespect to the dude that wrote them, but come on, have some respect for kids - so no, it wasn't those books. probably because they felt like spiders crawling up and down skin. probably because they felt like aliens trying to claw their way out of you into the world.//

It's blood.\n\n[[It's. Blood.]]

//the dog is a husky, because you love dogs, you were never a teddy bear person, fuck teddy bears. the potted cactus was a gift from your father, which made you even more suspicious, because you're pretty sure your father had cameras in the walls when you were growing up. creeper.//

[[You try to sleep.|Alphabet.]]

//Martha has a really sweet face. pretty hair. you should give up on the ghost on that one, kid. you're a vegetarian. she likes to eat raw, red, ripe meat. you guys would never, ever work out.//\n\n\n\n\n~~[[Credits]]~~

[[You try saying the alphabet backward.]]

//those fucking goosebumps again.//

//there had definitely been an almost full bottle of Jack when the night started and yet, somehow, mysteriously, there was now almost none.//

It's blood.\n\nIt's. Blood.\n\n[[It's fucking BLOOD.]]

- on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, off, off, off, [[offoffoffoffoffoff-]]

And you finally give up and can't take it anymore and the alphabet is way too fucking hard to say backward and you blindly reach on the floor and drag your laptop back up into your lap and you find your way to [[Twitter.]]

Ben screams.\n\nBen screams really loud.\n\n[[Ben's screams could shatter the earth.]]

His screams seem like they go on forever.\n\nHis screams sound like they're going to shatter the world.\n\n[[His screams sound like the world falling.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/PzVxgvy.png]]\n\nYou freeze.\n\nYou stare at the message like it's going to change.\n\n[[You stare like the world didn't just fall apart.]]

[[CRAAAAAAAACK.]]

[[Ben screams.]]

//Ben,// you think, and click over to it.\n\nIt's a picture, from a number you don't recognize.\n\n[img[http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c7/jerikor/fieldone.jpg]]\n\n[[What?]]

// Fast and Furious 6 is my jam.\n Flat tire. Late for meeting. Need coffee.//\n//She lived as she died: eating [[cheese puffs.]]//\n

You throw the computer down and jump off the bed, racing for the lights. The sound is coming from the living room.\n\n[[CRASH. CRUNCH.]]

leaves on your back\n\nleaves in [[your]]

your back scraping\n\nscraping against [[leaves]]

There are no more screams.\n\nThere are no more pictures falling.\n\n[[There are no more rattles, shakes, or moans.]]

There are no more screams.\n\n[[There are no more pictures falling.]]

[[Just quiet.]]

something slices, sinks, into your stomach.\n\n//wow, that hurts.//\n\n//crackcrackcrack.//\n\nyou start to black out [[again.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/esxcIrY.png]]\n\nYou stare at the screen for a long time, sweat still beading on your face - you lips, your cheeks, your hairline. It's suddenly burning up, on this October night in the northwest where it's anything but warm. You shed the sweater you had just pulled around you. Do you have a fever?\n\nMaybe you should just lay down.\n\nMaybe you should stop tweeting to this random internet person. \n\nThis is probably nothing.\n\n//There's nothing else to say,// you decide. You gave this crazy person the option. //Just close the laptop and go check on Ben.//\n\n[[You close the laptop with an air of finality.]]

//[[Why did you drink black tea, of all things?]]//\n

What a troll, you think, and you say as much in your next tweet. \n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/oAO27TN.png]] \n\nYou're amused though, thinking of what Ben is getting into at his little party. Definitely not as much fun as this [[(sitting at home on the internet was fun, definitely)]].\n\nYou wait a few more seconds for your new friend to reply. Anissa, it said the name was. Anissa then.\n\n[[The next response makes you pause.]]

//you run hot, but not this hot. you look hot, but you don't look hot now, hair askew, sweat everywhere, and jesus christ, it's so fucking hot in here. what is going on?//

[[CRASH. CRASH. CRASH. CRASH.]]

[[You recognize that face.]]

The phone goes dead. \n\n[[CRACK.]]

//that's Martha. tall, lanky, full of hair gel and flannel shirt wearing Martha. Ben's friend. she likes rap music. you two will never work out.//

leaves on your [[back]]

[[You try counting sheep.]]

The house [[shakes.]]

//\nACAB! Looking forward to this weekend.\nSchool tomorrow, oh well, pizza & whiskey tonight!\nI type really well when I'm drunk.\nThis couch smells funny.//\n

//you shake your leg when you're nervous or when strange people talk to you or you feel cold. sometimes you rub your socks together to feel the stimulation. mostly though you just shake your leg like a goddamn dog shaking its tail and wish you would do something less embarassing, like not shaking your goddamn leg.//

[[A cloud.]]

your back scraping\n\nscraping against leaves, dirt, [[gravel]]

Martha's face.\n\n//Martha...//\n\nYou're sprawled across the asphalt. \n\nYou can hear snuffling around you, like something's trying to draw breath.\n\nYou hear the click of teeth.\n\nYou can't lift your arm - //ithurtshurtshurtshurts// - but you can move your finger.\n\n[[You swipe your bloody thumb across the screen.]]

//[[Thump.]]//

<html>\n\nyou heard that once and it's been stored in your memory - just like you read once that pronouncing "either" AYE-ther makes you sound smarter, so you do that too now - ever since and you think about it every time you get even the hint of boredom, but what can you do?\n\n</html>

You feel cold.\n\nYou feel the blood running from your feet.\n\n[[Your feel your heart.]]

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You again walk through the house, checking doors and windows and vents. You turn the heat down a little. Your slippers //[[clack, clack, clack]]// against the hardwood.\n\nBen is sleeping still, mouth hanging open. He's drooling. You don't take a picture, although you think really, really hard about it. You put the kettle on, look at the Cosmo that Ben brought over [[(your guilty pleasure)]], stir in honey to your black tea and drink slowly while reading.\n\n~~//thereisnothinggoingonhereit'sjustacreepypersonontheinternetandi'mlettingmyselfgetscaredi'mfuckingstupid//~~\n\nIt's late. You walk back to your bedroom.\n\n[[You flip the light off.]]\n\n\n\n

You finally get the door open and you crash into the hallway as a picture falls from the wall [[(just you and Martha, a long time ago.)]]. You can hear more things rattling in the kitchen - your bookcase sounds like it's tipped over, the world sounds like it's falling.\n\n[[Ben is still screaming.]]

You clutch your phone and go down the hallway, carefully threading your way through broken glass and upside down books. The lights are flickering, [[off, on, off, on, off, on, off-]]

Another black and white image.\n\n[img[http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c7/jerikor/trail.png]]\n\nIt looks like a path, but it's hard to tell. You squint, bizarrely intent on figuring out the picture, not feeling the blood trickling from your feet or the wet blood sticking to your thighs.\n\n[[Buzz. Buzz.]]\n\n<html>\n \n \n \n</html>

You shine the flashlight down and shimmy back, utterly confused, panic seeping through your adrenaline dosed brain.\n\nThe floor is dark underneath you and the wet is soaking through your soft pajama bottoms.\n\nYou touch the floor and bring your hand back up and you start shaking so hard you almost drop your phone.\n\n[[It's red.]]

your back scraping\n\nscraping against leaves, [[dirt]]

[[His screams sound like they go on forever.]]

//Stop freaking out,// Ben chides you, taking the pizzas from the pizza man who is staring at you like you've sprouted a third head [[(a quick pat tells you that you haven't.)]].\n\nYou pay the pizza man stonily, then return to the couch. The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, unless you could Ben falling asleep on the couch and almost sliding to the floor. You tuck him in and turn off the lights, making sure all the windows are locked and the porch light is on.\n\nYou go to your bedroom, looking around nervously, and then [[turn on your laptop.]]

//[[What do you call a sheep with no legs?]]//

<html>\n<a href="https://twitter.com/kiimpulsively">@kiimpulsively</a>\n</html>\n

[img[http://i.imgur.com/PzVxgvy.png]]\n\nYou freeze.\n\n[[You stare at the message like it's going to change.]]

something slices, [[sinks]]

//it actually was fun, and you didn't understand why Ben didn't understand that, why he thought sitting outside in the middle of the forest, cold, in the middle of October, was more fun than being home and warm. home was way better than some trite October party, when there were bound to be awful costumes and fake blood and all those terrible Halloween cliches. no, much better to be here, rather than at the start of some slasher movie.//\n

Made for Asylum Jam 2013.\n\n<html>NOTE</html>: Use the back button on the browser/mouse to go back. Working on an easier way, but this works for now. Don't refresh.\n\n[[Credits]]\n\n[[Begin.]]

//you're gonna wear out your slippers, kid.//

//definitely not Martha, with her weird accent and messed up hair and long arms. definitely not Martha, who doesn't like olives toppings on her pizza. you two will never be.//

His screams sound like they go on forever.\n\nHis screams sound like they're going to shatter the world.\n\nHis screams sound like the world is falling.\n\n[[And then it's quiet.]]\n\n

//Ben?// you call again, louder this time. //BEN!//\n\nYou sweep toward the overturned couch in a hurry, not caring that you can feel bites of shattered glass prick your bare feet. You kick over books and push the coffee table to the side, until you can fall on your knees next to the couch. \n\nYou shine your flashlight, struggling to see in the darkness.\n\n//Ben?// you say, a little more quietly.\n\nThere is still no Ben.\n\n[[But you realize that you're kneeling on something wet.]]

//Martha, too tall for her own good with hips going on for days and legs made for the Olympics Martha, who you can't stop staring at, that Martha. she likes orange juice and you like apple juice. it's never gonna happen.//

[[hair]]

//crack.//\n\n//[[CRACK. CRACK.]]//

You stop before the door, jumping back a foot.\n\n[[BANG BANG.]]

something wooshes inside your head; suddenly you're floating; flying\n\n\n\n\n[[falling]]

The streetlights above you go out, showering glass on your head, plunging the street into darkness.\n\nYou can hear your heartbeat in your ears.\n\n[[Your phone buzzes again.]]

Ben drives over, sits with you and looks at the pictures you were sent.\n\n//What are you freaking out about? Someone's messing with you.//\n\nYou know that, you argue. //But why me?//\n\n//I don't know, who'd you piss off? Maybe it's Martha.//\n\n//It's [[NOT Martha]],// you say, collapsing on the couch. The sun is starting to go down. //You're right, I'm crazy. I've been punk'd.//\n\n//Totally,// Ben agrees, plopping down next to you. //Order a pizza, I'm starving.//\n\nYou order a pizza and put in a movie. You're starting to [[relax]] a little when the doorbell rings and you get up to [[get the pizza.]]

something wooshes inside your head; suddenly you're [[floating]]

[[CRASH.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/uNdSzpf.png]]\n\nWhat?\n\n What?\n\n//[[What?|what3]]//

[img[http://i.imgur.com/uNdSzpf.png]]\n\nWhat?\n\n [[What?|what2]]

//2 beers, just 2 beers and oh, maybe a shot of whiskey, you don't have school in the morning, afterall.//

//crack.//\n\n//CRACK. CRACK.//\n\n//[[CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.]]//

You skid to a halt, push the phone against your ear, hearing yourself breathing raggedly into the reciever.\n\n//Ben!//\n\nIt's not Ben's voice though.\n\n//Run, Jordan. Keep running!//\n\nYou can barely breathe. It sounds like a girl.\n\n//[[Jordan, keep running!]]//

//[[@Benrocks88]], [[@xmarthaaa]], @stillalivePA, @VitaV, @emploscom, @JoanSloan110, @ramly78, @ferrythestovia, @jesy_jam, @jasherm, @CMydas, @BaBarrien, @Azziego77, @Nanceyg4091, @Yuko_Kawashima, @derwhyte, @jojofcb, @jmateo2010//

You have a new follower.\n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/bttSFgx.png]]\n\n//Oh, that's cool I guess.//\n\nYou have a new message.\n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/3Nv5Acy.png]]\n\n[[You start to stagger toward the street, your breath still leaving you in heaving sobs.]]

//[[Z, Y, X, W, V, U, Q, P, oh fuck it.]]//\n\n

branches above you.\n\n//crackcrackcrackcrackcrack//\n\nsomething [[slices]]

//Ben, your best friend. maybe your only friend? who knows. you're a lone wolf. a tough as nails until there's spiders type of person. Ben's cool-looking, with short, buzzed hair and good at everything he does. he likes spiders. it's weird.//

[[You try to sleep.|laptopscene]]

The house shakes.\n\nThe house rattles.\n\nThe house [[creaks and moans and then suddenly-]]

Ben's by your side, [[swaying]] a little, saying //What is that? Pizza?//\n\nYour mouth is dry. Goosebumps prickle your flesh. Your grip your phone, half expecting another message. You want to look through the peephole but you're slightly terrified of what you might see.\n\n//Where the fuck is the pizza?// Ben demands suddenly, and opens the door.\n\n//[[WAIT!]]//

//[[crack.|crack1]]//

Ben screams.\n\n[[Ben screams really loud.]]

<html>\nBest party, you're missing out</html>, reads the text from Ben, your best friend.\n\nYou wrinkle your nose. Yea right.\n\nYou don't bother to reply and get on your computer, starting to click aimlessly. You check your Twitter feed, but really all you see are Ben's flamboyant texts about how great the party is. Your last update was two weeks ago. Not that the eighteen people [[(two friends, three businesses you don't care about, and thirteen bots)]] who follow you care about it.\n\nYou type out a status update.\n\n//[[Saturday night escapades, this is the LIFE!]]//

The night is cool. Your skin [[marbles]] with goosebumps. It's dark, there's no moon. The trees rise up from all around you and you can hear yourself gasping for breath in the quiet night. The streetlights are dim, not giving you much to see by. The houses are quiet. \n\n[[Your phone buzzes in your hand, making you cry out and almost drop it.]]

You smile, knowing Ben will see that and scoff, and then start to browse Twitter mindlessly, clicking like you have a purpose this late on a Saturday night.\n\nYou keep bumbling around Twitter [[(click, click, click)]], reading about people with their lattes and pets, girlfriends and boyfriends, acid reflux and surgery, until you stumble onto something that catches your attention.\n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/PiAsjtX.png]] \n\n[[It makes you pause.]]

Pain explodes behind your ears.\n\nYou try to cry out, but you're already falling to the ground, the phone clutched in your hand.\n\nNumbness radiates through your body.\n\n//I don't...//\n\n[[Your phone rings, rings, rings.]]

[img[http://i.imgur.com/9gura1F.png]]\n\n\n//How does she know my name?// you think, heart starting to beat faster.\n\n//It's on your profile page, dumbass,// you remember the next moment, and then smile at your own stupidity. You type out one last tweet, then step away from the computer, ready to sleep.\n\nYou get into bed and scan your phone one last time -\n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/MHz7Ysh.jpg]]\n\n- before you drop into [[neverland.]]\n<html>\n \n \n \n \n</html>

You fumble and with shaking hands manage to turn on the [[flashlight]] on your phone.

//clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, [[clack]]//

something wooshes inside you're head; suddenly you're floating; [[flying]]

//Thump.//\n\n//[[Thump. Thump.]]//

//you think Cosmo is a really, really, really bad influence on girls and women in general, and you think their "bad sex stories" sound like they were written by wannabe erotic authors, but you can't stop, won't stop.//

[img[http://i.imgur.com/uNdSzpf.png]]\n\n[[What?|what1]]\n

The house shakes.\n\nThe house [[rattles.]]

You stagger to your feet, slipping in the pool of blood, and you run for the front door, sliding all the way - on blood, on hardwood, on that fucking slippery rug your parents pawned off on you years ago.\n\n//Guess I can get rid of it now,// you think deliriously as you grapple with the front door knob. //Hey Mom, want your blood-soaked rug back?//\n\n[[You open the door and fall onto the stoop.]]

It's a black and white picture and you scrutinize it. An open field. You feel like you recognize it, but you don't know from where. \n\n//It's not even a good picture.//\n\nYou text back, //who is this?//\n\nThere's no response.\n\nYou go to brunch with Ben and [[Martha]], you drink mimosas, and still there's no response. There's nothing. \n\nYou forget about it and you go to sleep.\n\nYou wake up to [[another text message.]]

You black out. \n\nYou catch [[glimpses.]]

//click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, [[click]]

The first tweet had been made mere minutes ago.\n\nHow peculiar. \n\nBut not really. Honestly, how many [[bots|two friends, three businesses you don't care about, and thirteen bots]] followed you and whatnot? How many porn bots jumped you the moment you had made your account?\n\nOh well.\n\nYou write out your own tweet back.\n\n[img[http://i.imgur.com/872jFno.png]] \n\n\n[[The next response comes almost instantly.]]\n

It's Saturday night.\n\nYou are really, really bored [[(only boring people get bored)]].\n\nIt's a cold night in Washington, so you put on your big sweater and fluffy slippers and feel stupid as you sit in front of your computer.\n\n[[Your phone lights up with a text.]]\n\n

Made for <html><a href="http://www.asylumjam.com/">Asylum Jam 2013.</a></html>\n\nQuasi-not-really-but-sorta inspired by Robert Frost's //In Fire, In Ice//.\n\nStylesheet and Javascript code for loading pictures by <html><a href="http://leonarnott.neocities.org/">Leon Arnott</a></html> (stylesheet with one minor change to hovering text color by me).\n\nI lived inside <html><a href="http://aliendovecote.com/">Porpentine's</a></html> <html><a href="http://aliendovecote.com/resources/twine-snippets/">Twine resource page</a></html> for a week (you'd think I'd be able to make the game better with this stuff, but here we are).\n\nPictures taken at Marymoor Dog Park in Redmond, Washington. Edited (poorly) by me with Gimp.\n\nIf you're really curious, you can find Jordan's Twitter account <html><a href="https://twitter.com/fallingjordan">here</a></html> and Anissa's <html><a href="https://twitter.com/soundofaworld">here.</a></html> I'm probably violating Twitter TOS, but I'll live a little. Martha and Ben's Twitter accounts aren't real, but all the other ones are, culled from the bots that follow my own Twitter account.\n\nIf something's broken, shoot me a tweet. Or not. It's cool.\n\nThanks for clicking through my story!\n

[[You pull up the covers.]]

<html>\n\nclick, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click,</html> //[[click]]//

[[There are no more screams.]]

Hand trembling, you swimpe the screen with your bloody thumb. It doesn't work. \n\n//Did nobody realize when they made this fucking thing that you should be able to open it with bloody hands?// you want to yell into the dark.\n\nYou wipe your thumb on your shirt and try again, this time unlocking it.\n\n[[You have two new Twitter alerts.]]

You recognize that face.\n\n[[It's Ben.]]

//twitter is for losers,// you think dreamily.\n\nsomething wooshes inside your [[head]]

//Martha,// you croak. //Martha.//\n\nThe snapping of teeth gets louder.\n\n//crack. crack. crack. crack.//\n\n//crack. crack. crack. [[crack.]]//

[[You run blindly back to your bed.]]

The windows on your house blow out and you [[run.]]

You spare a glance down, tears starting to leak from your eyes as the adrenaline pumps through your veins.\n\n[[The caller ID lights up.]]

//where's the rain, it's supposed to rain all the time, not this sun. you probably wouldn't care this much. except it's 9AM and fuck that's early.//

You grab your phone as you heave air out of your lungs. \n\n//It's nothing, it can't be anything, it's nothing.//\n\nSweat is trickling down your face now, coating your forehead and face and hair [[(why is it so goddamn hot in here?)]]. Your palms are sweaty as you fumble with your doorknob. \n\n[[BOOM.]]

[[It's blood.]]

You kill some time by [[clicking around]] on meaningless sites, realizing you're procrastinating, and then log into your Twitter account.\n\nSome [[Ben tweets,]] some [[Martha tweets,]] but none from the account you followed the other day, the one that's been weighing on your mind ever since the weird pictures start to show up. Nothing since then. \n\nYou breathe a sigh of relief, almost audibly, and refresh the page as a new message pops up, wondering if Ben has awoken from his drunken slumber and is crying about how wonderful of a friend you are on Twitter. \n\n[[Your breath catches in your throat.]]

//Thump.\n\nThump. Thump.//\n\n//[[Thump. Thump. Thump.]]//

//Martha,// you wheeze. //Martha.//\n\nIt's not Martha.\n\n//I told you they were coming,// says the girl's voice, sadly. //I told you to run.//\n\n//Martha,// you say, spitting out blood.\n\n//[[Goodbye, Jordan.]]//